“Ask me again on the first opportunity.”
“Why won’t you come?” said Dolly, waiving this question.
I bent forward, holding my hat in my left hand and sawing the air with my right forefinger.
“You fail to allow,” said I impressively, “for the rejuvenescence which recent events have produced in me. If I came with you this evening, I should be quite capable—” I paused.
“Of anything dreadful?” asked Dolly.
“Of paying you pronounced attentions,” said I gravely.
“That,” said Dolly with equal gravity, “would be very regrettable. It would be unjust to me—and very insulting to her, Mr. Carter.”
“It would be the finest testimonial to her,” I cried.
“And you’ll spend the evening thinking of her?” asked Dolly.
“I shall go through the evening,” said I, “in the best way I can.” And I smiled contentedly.